Guardian

I swoop in;
On a chilling October evening.
Perched on an old branch, I scan
the golden field.

Suddenly my eyes lock.
He stands proud,
With a fierce grin upon his face.

I wait until the sun slumbers.
As the wind assists me;
the darkness conceals my
stealth movement.

Riffling through my wondrous feast,
I am spotted.
The stare and grin of my enemy
sends a shiver through my black feathers.

As I scramble to fly away
I feel him reaching for my tail.
I manage to escape.
Looking behind me
in astonishment I notice
the scarecrow is right back to his post.
No one ever knowing of his actions of
keeping me from my feast.





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